


Natasha's Hair

by Lady_Blackwater



Series: BROTHER (The Life and Times of Steve, Bucky, and  Mischka) [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bonding, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Hair Braiding, Kissing, M/M, Original Character(s), Parent Bucky Barnes, Parent Steve Rogers, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6069913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackwater/pseuds/Lady_Blackwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trust level: Letting your boyfriend braid your daughter's hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natasha's Hair

Steve decided to take himself seriously in learning how to braid hair. Mischka's and Bucky's only gets longer everyday, so he might as well, just for fun. 

It's on a day where Bucky's at band practice and Mischka's at school does he grab his laptop and sets up in his living room searching for hair braiding tutorials on YouTube. The first step is learning how to braid then he can get creative with styles. Steve's a pretty optimistic man who is once settled and determined for a goal, he reaches it no matter how difficult and frustrating it may be. 

And as of right now, it's pretty difficult and Steve's frustrated. 

The lady in the video tutorials he's watching is annoyingly cheerful and patient in instructing the viewers on how to weave the three locks of hair around each other on her on head. Steve's practicing on yarn with his tongue out in fierce concentration. It takes a couple of tries, but Steve grasps the concept of braiding and advances into tutorials for other styles like French braids or cornrows. 

He's at it for an hour and a half, going through several videos on braiding, twisting, flat ironing, curling, and easy style tips for young girls trying to figure out what to do with their hair. Not before long, he stumbles upon some instructional videos specifically for single dads who wanna get creative with their daughter's hair and learn how to style it. He watches a few of those and works his yarn till it breaks. 

Instead of going back into his arts and crafts drawer for more, he watches some more videos, makes a list, grabs his wallet, and is off to the nearest corner hair store. Brooklyn's full of them. 

The second he walks in, it's an understatement to say he's intimidated. There's wigs on dull faced mannequin heads, hair products, and makeup covering every inch of the store, and he's not sure where to start. The first thing on his list is a wide tooth comb, but he's not sure where that'd be in such a busy store. 

He wanders for a minute or two before being approached by a short, black lady with a friendly smile and shiny hair and a name tag that reads _Gia._ "Can I help you with something? You look a bit lost."

He smiles politely in return at the employee. "Um, I'm looking for supplies on braiding hair?" he tells her, unsure. She continues to smile even through raised eyebrows.

"Care to specify?" She prompts, and he can feel his face getting red. 

"I watched some videos on the Internet for different styles for little girls," he explains, looking above at the mannequins and inhaling the smell of hair products. "I got this list together." 

He hands Gia the list, she reads it over for a second and taps him on the shoulder before walking down a random aisle. "We've got just what you need. Single dads come through here all the time looking for this stuff," she says, picking up a pink bottle of mousse. 

"Well, _actually_ ,-" 

"How old is your daughter?" she asks, reaching above to get a jar of white cream Steve wasn't sure was for. 

It'd be less complicated to explain that Mischka technically isn't his daughter, so he answer it as she assumed it. "She's six. Hair all the way down her back that I wanted to try different styles with." 

"Hmmm," Gia hums and leads him into another aisle to retrieve the combs and brushes he put on the list. "Suppose Mom's not around to help?" 

"Unfortunately no," he says shortly while the employee get two combs and wide brush. He leaves it at that. 

They go all the way around the store in circles till Steve's got a basket full of hair products he's not entirely sure how to use and fifty less dollars in his pocket. He thanks Gia before leaving and riding back to his apartment. 

 

He spreads all his purchases out on the bathroom counter and examines each bottle and jar, carefully reading over each label. Carter's giving him one of those looks that tells him he's way out of his league with this, but he ignores the animal and watches more videos till he hears Mischka and Bucky come home. 

"Hey," he calls from across the hall as Bucky's unlocking their apartment door. Bucky's head whips around with a cheeky grin. 

"We were coming right over. Hold your ass," he says to his boyfriend, and Mischka eyes him. 

"Ass is a _bad word_ ," she glowers up at him. "You listen to too much rap music." 

"Well, you just said it," he bites back with no threat in his tone as he opens the door and shoots Steve a impatient look. "We'll be over in a second." 

"Okay," he says and keeps his door unlocked. He goes to his kitchen and gets out a pre-made fruit bowl for Mischka and sets in on bathroom sink. 

Carter rushes to the door when it opens and the cheerful sound of the little girl greeting the dog fills the apartment as well as a loud, "Babe?" from Bucky. 

"In here," he calls from his bedroom where his bathroom is attached. It takes a moment for Bucky to appear around the corner with a wolffish smirk on his face when he sees his boyfriend standing strong and tall in the middle of the pristine bathroom. 

"Aw, _there's my Captain_ ," he slurs happily and plants a soft kiss on his cheek and then parts his lips with a slick tongue. Their lips fold and unfold around each other's for a minute before pulling away in each other's arms to look at each other. 

"How was practice?" Steve asks, rubbing the hard muscles of Bucky's back through his thin t-shirt.

Bucky groans and rolls his eyes with a bitter smile. "We were supposed to be finishing a song today, but those assholes never pay attention to me. Anyway, how was your day? What'd you do?" He asks in returns and puts his forehead on his favorite spot of Steve's neck. 

"Well, see for yourself," he gestures to the counter and only now does Bucky see the various bottles of products on the counter. His eyes widen then his eyebrows lower in deep thought at what he's looking at. 

"Um...? What's all this?" Bucky asks, picking up some cream, opening the jar, and sniffing it. 

"I was kinda bored today, so I looked up, like, hair tutorials and stuff for little girls. I thought it'd be cute if I tried some of them on Mischka. Y'know, for practice," he explains shyly, realizing how creepy and odd the whole ordeal was when he finally said it out loud. This isn't even _his_ daughter they're talking about.

Instead of looking freaked out, Bucky's looking at him with a surprised gaze and a tilted smile. "You went out and got _all this for her?"_

"For the most part. Well, if you wanted to try some of it on her so you can try braiding her hair yourself then you're welcome to this stuff. I don't have much of a use for it," he rambles on for a moment before Bucky's red lips are pressing his again, keeping him locked in with a metal hand to the side of his face. 

Dazed by the action, Steve casts his eyes across Bucky's smitten expression with great confusion. 

"You are the most precious puppy I've ever met," he says over a smug laugh. Steve's not sure how to receive that, but he really doesn't have to because Bucky's kissing him again. A moan or two escapes both of their lips - and Steve's a second away from saying to hell with braiding when he's got Bucky in his arms kissing him like this - before being duly interrupted by the little girl's exaggerated, dramatic ' _ahem._ ' 

"Hi, sweetheart," Steve says out of reaction when she strolls into the bathroom and immediately goes for her fruit bowl when she sees it set on the counter. 

She points to the hair products and chews down on a piece of pineapple. "What's all that stuff?" 

"I wanna try something."

She squints her eyes at him then glances over at the hair creams and serums suspiciously. "What is it?" 

Both men can already tell this might take a bit of convincing. If there's one thing the girl loves more than ballet, it's her hair. It's not even because she's a girl and all girls supposedly care about is their hair, but because it's _Natasha's hair._

In photo albums stocked safely in Bucky's photo apartment, there's shots of a sassy Natasha Romanoff with brown hair and dyed red eyebrows with a piercing - what a phase that was. It wasn't until maybe high school did she get the genius idea to become a permanent redhead. Her parents hated it; Bucky loved it. Because it's one of the few precious features she'd inherited from her late mother - despite Bucky's dark hair being the dominant of the two gene - she'd never dye it. Ever. Not when it's the last thing she's holding onto of her mother besides her sparkling, green, cat eyes as each day goes on and she grows to resemble Bucky more. 

"I wanted to try braiding your hair, if that's alright with you," Steve tells her, flipping the wide tooth comb in his hands nervously. The worse she could say is no, and somehow that stings Steve's feeling.

She's hesitant and when she doesn't answer immediately, Bucky pipes in to the awkward silence's rescue with a lighthearted chuckle. "C'mon, doll. Just for a few moments. Stevie's probably been practicing all day, and you know he can't try out what he learned on Carter." 

At the sound of her name, the dog's tail wags animatedly against the bathroom tile floor with heavy thumps. 

The little girl eats a piece of fruit and slowly eases into the bathroom before catching a glimpse of her immaculate bun in the mirror. 

"You're not gonna mess up my hair, are you, Stevie?" She asks, glaring into what feels like his soul, shaking his core with how dignified and straight laced the question leaves her mouth. It almost makes the man feel like he's back in the army receiving orders before he got any rank of his own. 

Well, her father is a Sergeant. 

"No, ma'am," he promises with a salute and pulls the chair out for her to plop down. "And if I do mess up, you have every right to shave me bald." 

Bucky must picture it because he laughs to himself and steals a slice of pineapple from his daughter's fruit bowl. Remembering everything he learned, Steve parts the child's hair down the middle, dabs the back of his hand with some product, and gets to braiding as best he can. 

 

 

It's maybe forty-five minutes later that Mischka's taking pictures of her new hairdo on Steve's iPad, proud and confident of the braided crown circling her head. Steve's pretty proud, too. He's more in awe that he did that himself after only a few hours of frustrating tutorials and a lot of hair products. Truth be told, he and Bucky are pretty shocked that the process got completed within under an hour with only mild complaints and only a few cases of _"ow, Stevie!"_ and _"I'm sorry, princess. I'm still learning!"_

"Am I next?" Bucky's smirking when he strolls back into the bathroom, hands in his pockets and leaning on the threshold.

Steve ceases cleaning up the products and shrugs when he slaps the seat of the chair twice.

"Sit." 

Even though he was kidding, Bucky still takes the offer with a lazy, shit eating grin and stares suggestively at their reflections in the mirror when he gets comfortable in the chair. 

Steve barely uses any product this time aside from the holding spray and the comb to part Bucky's hair down the middle as well. Nearly second nature now, he crouches down to twine his fingers with the strands at the start of Bucky's hairline. Bucky watches with great interest as once loose strands collect together and the beginnings of a braid appears right before his eyes with each second Steve's gigantic fingers gracefully craft their way on his head. With a black rubber band on his wrist, he wraps the end of the first braid closed and runs his palm over the finished product to flatten flyaway hairs. 

 

Amazed, Bucky leans forward to further inspect his reflection and turns his head sideways. The braid's only a tad sloppy, but for a first timer, Steve's done pretty well. 

"Huh," he huffs and glances up at Steve through the mirror. He's already got his eyes glued to him. "Nice job." 

"Gimme kiss," Steve demands and leans forward to peck his boyfriend's lips upside down, emitting a quiet smacking sound when their lips meet. "Now turn around and lemme finish." 

 

Bucky and Mischka keep their new hairstyles for about a week after Steve did them, and every so often, Mischka would ask him to do the crown or another style for when she's going to school, the park, or even practice. 

 

The hair braiding, however, is only the start to the favors Mischka begins to feel comfortable in asking Steve.


End file.
